


Leaked and Scented

by LadyDrace



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Blow Jobs, Canon Compliant, Consent Issues, Drugged Sex, Getting Together, Licking, M/M, POV Elim Garak, Scent Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 15:24:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9130375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyDrace/pseuds/LadyDrace
Summary: There's a mostly harmless gas leak in the habitat ring. Some inhibitions are lost, and Garak and Julian feel the effects of it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Garak/Bashir fic in.... oh god, SO LONG. I'm so rusty, oh man. 
> 
> Written for [malaayna](http://malaayna.tumblr.com/) who prompted drugged sex and licking. 
> 
> Unbetaed.

There's a giggling in Garak's quarters, accompanied by the repeated chirp of a comm badge, but it couldn't possibly be less interesting. All Garak is currently interested in is a smell. A wonderful, _amazing_ smell, dancing across his taste buds, and he turns in slow circles as he breathes in, hoping to figure out what it is.

 

“Julian, I'm gonna remotely disable your comm badge, all right?” Jadzia's voice says from somewhere. “You're obviously no good to us right now. See you when you've slept off the gas. Dax out.”

 

More giggling erupts, but then the chirping changes to a dull bleep, and Garak turns to find Julian looking at his badge sadly. “Aw. It's broken.”

 

“Never mind that, Doctor, what is that _smell?_ ” Garak takes another deep breath. It's delightful, and if he could pinpoint it he'd want to roll around in it like an excitable riding hound.

 

“Maybe it's the entamine gas. Jadzia said something about a leak in the habitat ring. Leak. Leeeeak,” Julian drawls, and then snickers. “Leak is a funny word, isn't it?”

 

“No, Doctor, that's not it.”

 

“Well, _I_ think it's funny.”

 

“No, I mean, that's not the smell! It's... warm. And... salty? Or... savory?” Garak grimaces with frustration as he fumbles around for words, searching the room for the origin of the scent. “Like... fur. Or warm bed sheets. Or... damn it, I don't _know_. Doctor, come help me find it!”

 

Julian sniffs the air with a frown and then shrugs. “I don't smell anything.”

 

“It's in here somewhere, I know it,” Garak mutters, and goes to one corner of the room and then the next, huffing with annoyance when that only seems to move him further from the smell. He knows he first caught it during dinner. Right around the time Julian seemed to realize the sound of his comm badge was hilarious. The smell is unrelated to the food, though, now cooling on the table, and so far nothing else in the room carries even a hint of the scent. Frustrated, Garak sits down on the couch next to Julian, hoping that maybe if he sits still and doesn't stir the air too much he'll catch the scent properly, but before he's even settled, there's a blast of the smell, and he whips around to follow it.

 

“It's _you_ ,” he whispers as he realizes the origin, and Julian looks at him with a frown.

 

“Hm? What's me?”

 

“The smell,” Garak says, moving closer almost reverently, because it's all around him now, making him dizzy with how pleasant it is, and all he wants is _more_. “You smell... _marvelous_.”

 

“Why, thank you, Garak!” Julian says with a pleased grin. “I tried a new lotion recently, Jadzia recommended it, and I figured- what... are you doing?”

 

It's not enough anymore, and Garak picks up Julian's hand to get closer to it. “It's wonderful,” he sighs, but it's still somehow not enough, and without even thinking about it he licks a broad path across Julian's palm, the taste exploding in glorious bursts on his tongue.

 

“Garak, what are you- this is, uhm. Are you, uh, all right?” Julian stammers, but he doesn't pull his hand away, and Garak hums happily against his skin.

 

“You have the most extraordinary taste, my dear,” he purrs, and Julian makes a startled half-laugh.

 

“I, uh... I'm... glad you think so? I guess. You don't usually think so.”

 

Garak smiles against the delicate wrist, and noses up under the sleeve of that horrid uniform. “Don't be silly, Doctor, you know that's not what I mean.”

 

Julian huffs. “Like I ever know what you mean. You never say anything plainly.”

 

“Well, let me tell you this, my dear Doctor, plainly and simply. You smell _delectable_. And you taste...” he sucks a wet kiss into the small strip of skin available of his lower arm, “...even better.”

 

“Well, uhm... al-all right. Are you... sure this is a good idea? I mean, uh. You're not usually this, uh... affectionate.”

 

“You're not usually this fascinated with sounds either, Doctor, I daresay we're both a little out of sorts,” Garak argues, because arguing with Julian will always be his favorite activity. Except maybe this delightful tasting experience will prove to be his new obsession. The damn sleeve is in the way, though, covering up the skin Garak wants to taste, and he snarls at it in annoyance before realizing he can just remove it. It seems like an excellent idea, and he rips the seam in one quick movement.

 

“ _Woah_ , hey, easy!” Julian protests, and then moves out of Garak's grasp, which is utterly intolerable, and he glares first at the now ripped sleeve and then at Julian. All is forgiven, though, when Julian starts undoing his uniform jacket, easing it off, leaving him in his turtleneck undershirt. “Better?” he asks, and Garak looks morosely at how covered up he still is.

 

“No.”

 

“Oh.” Julian looks down at himself and then shrugs, tugging off the turtleneck in one smooth move, leaving him bare from the waist up. “How's- _oh,_ ” is as far as he gets before Garak is on him, tongue wide and hungry on that smooth chest, tasting every inch.

 

“Oh, uhm, I wasn't- I mean, this is... oh, _damn_ ,” he says with a shudder as Garak finds a nipple and sucks it into his mouth with a delighted rumble. “Should you be, uh... doing that?” Julian asks breathlessly. “I mean... you don't usually seem, uh...”

 

“ _Usually_ is rather inconsequential right now, Doctor, wouldn't you agree?” Garak murmurs, and happily licks his way higher until he can suck and bite at Julian's beautiful neck. He makes a lovely moan, and arches into the caress, granting Garak all the access he could possibly want, and it makes all his senses _sing_.

 

“I'm... not entirely sure... we should.... be doing... this,” Julian manages between increasingly heavier breaths, his hands coming up to grasp at Garak's shoulders. “I don't think I... or, well, _we_... would do this... normally. Though... right now I can't seem to... remember why.”

 

Garak hums in agreement, because yes, something does kind of niggle at him in the back of his mind, but it can't possibly be as important as that wonderful taste. It's making him hot and dizzy, but in an unmistakably pleasant way, and for once he feels like just doing whatever his body is telling him to. Which right now means getting as close as possible, and he gets up on his knees so he can crawl into Julian's space, planting one knee firmly on the couch between his legs, and it's shocking how hot he is there, the heat almost burning Garak through all their layers. Julian lets out a shocked moan and presses up against him, clinging to him, and then taking his own turn offering surprises by yanking Garak close by the neck for a kiss.

 

He kisses with both ruthless precision and frantic determination, and Garak actually forgets for a moment what he was doing. It all degenerates into a mess of kisses and moans, Julian almost hanging off him, grinding against Garak's leg in a very distracting way. But as he moves, his delicious scent only seems to get more intense, and Garak has to pull himself away from those insistent lips so he can move to follow the smell.

 

Julian falls to the couch with a small _oomph_ when Garak moves him, essentially manhandling him to lie down so he's spread out more for easier access.

 

“Aw, but I want- _oh_ ,” Julian gasps as Garak wastes no time getting back to business. He licks and kisses all around Julian's throat and chest, taking extra time investigating the armpits. It's even better there, but still not nearly enough, and he licks his way down further in search of more. Julian makes a wonderful noise of surprise when Garak rips open his uniform pants and underwear without further ado, and Garak can't help a small moan of his own when the scent bursts forth and engulfs him.

 

Garak doesn't really have experience with human sexual mechanics, but so far the steps have seemed similar enough. And while the visuals are a new and interesting concept he's definitely going to have fun exploring at some point, right now indulging his need for that smell and taste is infinitely more important, and he dives in without further thought.

 

Julian cries out, shocked and sharp when Garak's lips close around the head of his cock, and he reaches down to clutch at Garak's hair somewhat painfully. But it's utterly unimportant, because Garak has found _heaven_. Pure and simple. He sucks and licks and breathes in greedy lungfuls, filling all his senses with what he now knows is simply _Julian_. A unique flavor of human. It feels like he'll never get enough of it, and he suckles at it determinedly, uncaring of what it might do to Julian.

 

Moans and gasps ring through the room, and while they're nowhere near as wonderful as this taste and smell, Garak appreciates them too, having the vague thought that he really must spend more time coaxing those out later as well.

 

But for now, it's all about the bliss on this tongue, and he takes hold of Julian's hips to make sure he doesn't even think about moving away. Not that there's any real risk of that, considering how tightly Julian is clinging to his hair, pulling several strands out by the roots every time Garak moves. He doesn't have any real goal in mind, other than immersing himself completely in the sensory thrill, but there's no missing how Julian's thighs shake every time Garak moves back, sucking as he pulls off. There's a sigh, almost like relief, every time he slurps Julian's cock back into his mouth, and it's strangely intoxicating, this catch and release of breath, and without thought he repeats the motion again, and then again.

 

Cardassian lovemaking is less about rhythm and more about pressure. Consistent, focused, a clear road map from start to finish. Not that sloppy and messy sex is unheard of, but in contrast this feels like dancing while knowing only the very basics of the steps. Stumbling, panting and definitely missing the mark every so often, but somehow always finding the rhythm again.

 

“God... please, don't- don't stop,” Julian gasps, and nothing could be further from Garak's mind, if nothing else just because he feels like he'll never be sated. Will never have tasted enough.

 

His own arousal is somewhat unimportant. Having never made any conscious decision to have sex he hasn't put himself in a position for Julian to really reciprocate, but he's not unaffected. It's simply not a priority in comparison to what his senses demand of him. But he can still appreciate the thrum of lust behind his spine, and he's more than happy indulging Julian's pleas.

 

The climax catches him off guard, although it probably shouldn't have. Julian's sudden yanking on his hair seemed only slightly more inconvenient than it had been up until then, and functioned rather poorly as a warning, frankly. But the spurt of bitterness against the back of Garak's throat isn't nearly enough to ruin the experience, and he doesn't want to stop at all. He's forced to, however, when Julian starts whimpering and pushing him away with some insistence, and Garak looks up just to glare, because he's not nearly done yet.

 

“Guh,” Julian croaks. “I'm... sorry, Garak, you need to stop for a moment. I'm too sensitive.”

 

“But I'm not finished yet!” Garak protests, and Julian blinks dazedly at him before sitting up.

 

“Oh, of course, let me take care of you too,” he purrs, and then starts pawing at Garak's pants.

 

“What? No, that's not- ugh, Doctor, would you stop it!” Garak snarls and then slams Julian back onto the couch. Mindful of the aforementioned sensitivity he swoops back in, burying his face in the now soft and damp length, nestled so comfortably in dark curls, and Julian only twitches a few times before settling down and cautiously petting Garak's hair.

 

“Oh, uh. All right, then. If that's what you want.”

 

Since it _is_ in fact what Garak wants he doesn't argue, and long minutes pass as he breathes in his new favorite thing, now tinged with bitterness, but still wonderful. He's unclear on how long he stays there, but at some point he becomes suddenly and awkwardly aware of what's he's doing, and barely a second later, Julian tenses under him.

 

Garak sits up slowly, cautiously catching Julian's gaze, and there's no doubt his poor doctor is mortified.

 

“Well,” Julian says, covering himself with a convenient throw pillow, utterly failing at doing it casually. “That was... I don't even know what that was.”

 

“A gas leak, evidently,” Garak says, unnecessarily, because when all else fails, state the obvious.

 

“Evidently so,” Julian agrees, and sits up. “You, uh... wouldn't happen to have some pants I could borrow?”

 

The shift of focus to practical matters helps the awkwardness some, and Garak manages to find a pair of lounge pants with a sufficiently adjustable drawstring to keep Julian decent. As he changes, Garak busies himself with clearing away the meal they never managed to finish, and doesn't turn around until Julian clears his throat. He's covered now, undershirt back on, the rest of his torn clothes bundled under his arm, and Garak smiles at him in his usual exaggerated fashion. He's happy to note that it seems to relax Julian a little to return to the familiar. But he's also more than happy to ruin that mood.

 

“Ah, Doctor, we really must do this again some other time. Preferably without the gas leak.”

 

It's glorious how Julian fumbles and then drops his ruined uniform. “I- what? I mean, I beg your pardon? You mean... _dinner_ , right?”

 

Garak waves him off. “If you say so.”

 

“Now hold on!” Julian says, stomping up to him, looking beautifully ridiculous in billowing, saggy pants. “I'm not letting you off the hook that easily! We were obviously both impaired by the gas, and if you want to just forget about it I'll be happy to play along. But if you're planning on using this to- to... give me the runaround, then I'm not about to let you!” he rants, complete with wagging forefinger in Garak's face, and it's the most fun he's had in years, frankly.

 

“Oh, my dear Doctor,” Garak says, folding that angry finger down with a gentle touch, and then taking soft hold of Julian's fist. “Nothing could be further from my mind,” he lies, and Julian is well aware of it, rolling his eyes passionately.

 

“Oh, please,” he huffs, but shuts his mouth with a snap when Garak places a tiny kiss on his knuckles.

 

“Wouldn't dream of it, my dear.”

 

Oh, this is going to be very interesting indeed.

 

End.

 

 


End file.
